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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28185198">don't cover your eyes now!</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sam_roulette/pseuds/sam_roulette'>sam_roulette</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Prompt Fills + AU Drabbles [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnus Archives (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Adopted Sibling Relationship, Alternate Universe - Kagerou Project Fusion, Angst, Gen, Haunting, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Melodrama, Supernatural Elements</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 21:27:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,149</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28185198</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sam_roulette/pseuds/sam_roulette</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>" Oliver introduced Terminal Oversight; the wonders of life and death, the sheer nature of the veil between worlds, and a case that seems to carry more mystery the more one looks, a case of a brother being haunted…</p>
<p>“My name is Daniel Stoker,” This week's guest introduced himself, eyes so bright a green it was impossible to focus the camera anywhere else, “and someone stole our brother’s corpse. I’m looking for anyone who might know where to find it.” "</p>
<p>Two adopted siblings terrorize the hosts of a séance-giving YouTube channel. It's for a noble cause.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Melanie King &amp; Danny Stoker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Prompt Fills + AU Drabbles [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1944931</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>don't cover your eyes now!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>title taken from <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pcdK2aEFBws">Kisaragi Attention,</a> a Kagerou Project song that is Way more cheerful and lighthearted than what we ended up going into here</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>There was just something off about this guy Oliver had brought on board. It was hard to put his finger on what it was, but there was just something… weird. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Graham was anxious, sure. There was no question about that; the prescription and weekly visits to his therapist proved that much. But sitting on the sidelines, watching Oliver set up the camera and chat with their guest for the evening, Graham couldn’t help the way his eyes were drawn to the stranger. By all accounts, he seemed normal; dressed normally and even stylishly, slightly out of place scarf and all. No odd birthmarks or scars hidden anywhere, slightly cheap mascara clumping on his eyelashes, a pretty face- the very picture of the kind of man that, if they slapped him on the thumbnail next to Oliver, would rake in views. Which was saying a lot, since their entire niche were DIY séances. They were pretty popular already.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But maybe it was just the way he moved. Every time he shifted a tripod leg or adjusted the red fabric wrapped around his neck, there was the slightest hitch in his movements, as though the muscles were just a bit stiff. Maybe it was because the man’s smile never wavered, even while Oliver warned him about the somewhat macabre nature of the show. Maybe it was the fact that when Oliver said, “This will essentially be broadcasting your grief out to the world- is it alright to be doing this so soon? We can stop, if you want,” the man simply replied, “That’s what I’m counting on.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe it was because when Danny Stoker turned to him, his eyes were such a vivid green that they looked nearly fluorescent. Maybe it was because for just a moment, his pupils seemed</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mister Folger?” Their guest asked, tilting his head. His eyelashes fluttered and Graham was struck, once again, by how pretty this man seemed to be- so much so that he forgot… well, some train of thought. “Are we alright to start?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Er,” Graham said intelligently, glancing at Oliver. Oliver nodded back gravely, dark eyes set so seriously that it was almost enough to make Graham melt. How he was ever going to survive the night being the sole company of two beautiful men was anyone’s guess. “Y-yeah, the mics are all synced up- are you really okay to…?” Graham paused, looking back to Danny and clearing his throat. “I know your sister, ah, couldn’t make it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who, Mel?” Danny said, seeming oddly amused. “No, she couldn’t. But she’s here in spirit.” Graham’s stomach dropped and Danny jolted slightly, holding his hands up placatingly, “Not like that! She’s alive- she’s just dodging cops, you know... she's around.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s good, at least,” Oliver said, gingerly placing a hand on Danny’s shoulder. Danny stiffened, but leaned into the touch after a moment, placing a hand over Oliver’s. “I’m sure she would be here if she could do anything to help support you through this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll be fine on my own,” Danny said, looking off to the side distantly, as though seeing something neither of them could. “Considering what she was doing back then, she might’ve ended up being a nuisance for this anyway…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A second after that, his head jerked back, hand flying up to his hair as he stumbled back a step. Oliver was already stepping in time, reaching an arm out and back to steady their guest; Graham just wondered what kind of trick of the light had made it seem, for just a moment, as though Danny’s eyes </span>
  <em>
    <span>weren’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>actually green.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you alright?” Oliver asked, hushed, “Because at this rate, I’m not sure if-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s fine! I’m fine,” Danny assured them with a small, shaky smile as he allowed himself to be righted, “It- it was just a big moth, or something. Some kind of annoying bug- I ah, just. Don’t want it messing with my hair,” His tone turned somber in an instant, and with the shine of those eyes, Graham couldn’t help but believe it all to be genuine, “If even a speck is out of place, and people don’t take me seriously… if people don’t take </span>
  <em>
    <span>him </span>
  </em>
  <span>seriously, I…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course,” Graham found it in himself to say. He cleared his throat and asked, “Should we… get started then, Danny?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oliver looked back at him, eyebrows furrowing for a reason Graham couldn’t place. Danny went back to smiling beatifically. “Yeah- let’s.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Graham made sure the recording was going smoothly as Oliver took his place in his chair at the leftmost side of the cloth circle sectioning off the warehouse floor’s concrete. Danny gingerly sat across from him, folding his hands delicately in his lap and playing with the scarf’s tassels as Oliver introduced <em>Terminal Oversight</em>. The wonders of life and death, the sheer nature of the veil between worlds, </span>
  <em>
    <span>and a case that seems to carry more mystery the more one looks, a case of a brother being haunted…</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My name is Daniel Stoker,” The guest introduced himself, eyes so bright a green it was impossible to focus anywhere else, “and someone stole my brother’s corpse. I’m looking for anyone who might know where to find it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The story was bizarre no matter what way someone looked at it. Timothy King-Stoker, well-to-do editor at a prestigious publishing house, fell thirteen stories to his death at an abandoned fairground. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No one knew he was there. He hadn’t even told his family. (The quiet anger seeping into Danny’s tone was impossible to ignore.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His younger brother, apparently having been in the area camping, chanced upon the scene when it was long over and panicked. Melanie King, the middle sister, arrived not long after Danny’s call and called an ambulance. Tim was dead long before reaching hospital, and while both younger siblings were arguing with doctors about Tim’s apparent wish to be cremated, all the cameras in the hallway where the corpse was supposedly being transported shorted out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By the time they had returned Tim’s body had disappeared entirely. Not a single nurse or doctor in the busy hallway had seen the gurney nor anyone transporting the body; Tim’s neck had snapped on impact, killing him instantly. By all accounts, it was the perfect grave robbery.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But he’s still here,” Danny said. Meeting Danny’s gaze was almost too intense- almost as though by having all his attention focused on him, Graham would be giving himself up to something. Danny repeated, quieter, “He’s still here.” and the lights above them flickered in and out of focus.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Graham looked up, eyebrows furrowing as the lightbulbs flickering above stopped as suddenly as they started, giving a steady stream of light. Danny wrapped his arms around himself, hiding the lower half of his face partially in the scarf. The contrast of red fabric and thick mascara only seemed to highlight how Danny’s eyes were so green that they seemed to glow. In the periphery of his vision there was some kind of movement, but Graham didn’t catch it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you mean,” Oliver asked gently, “when you say that he’s still here?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He follows me, you know,” Danny said, raising his head and focusing on the camera lens in front of him. “Whenever I think I’m at home, there’s always something moving around the kitchen; opening the cabinets, setting and unfolding and refolding the towels, sometimes making something fall…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was the metallic clang of something behind Graham. Graham jumped, about to turn his head when Danny looked directly at him, seeming to shrink further in on himself. Graham kept his eyes on the scene in front of him as another </span>
  <em>
    <span>thud </span>
  </em>
  <span>followed the first.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whenever I’m alone on the tube late at night, coming back from a gig- there’s the feeling of someone across the trailer, watching me,” Danny said, and Graham could </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel </span>
  </em>
  <span>it. Not only the weight of Danny’s stare, burning into him as red-hot iron, but of someone else looking at him. Like if Graham just turned his head, he might see that someone was right beside him, glaring at the side of his face as though a stare alone could melt flesh. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And there’s a cologne he used to wear, too,” Danny said, “and it smells sweet. And I smell it, when I’m alone in the train car,”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Graham smelled something sweet and shivered. Once he’d noticed it, he couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched- of there being another body in his space, of there being someone that was silently daring him to look. He couldn’t look. He wasn’t allowed to; not by the way his muscles locked in place, and not by the way that Daniel Stoker looked at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And now he’s here,” Danny said in a low voice, accompanied by the banging of footsteps on concrete, of small boxes and tools from the back of the warehouse slowly floating just in the corners of the camera’s view and in Oliver gripping the arms of his chair tighter, stony faced in the cacophony of uncertainty. “He’s been with me this entire time, and…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The clank and clutter of the inner circle grew as tools were tossed- first a monkey wrench to the west, metallically hitting the wall with a forceful </span>
  <em>
    <span>crack, </span>
  </em>
  <span>then a screwdriver being stuck into the arm of Danny’s chair, then still more, as though someone unseen was running to and fro. The footsteps echoed before, just as suddenly as they began, they stopped. Danny was sinking in on himself, trying to make himself so small, and it was pitiful in how much he failed. Even when he was at his lowest, Danny Stoker couldn’t seem to stop drawing eyes to him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Distantly, Graham thought that if this was ever uploaded, everyone would love this man. Danny just had a magnetism that was impossible to escape. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s behind you,” Danny whispered, “Oliver.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The lights went out just as Oliver gasped. It was a desperate, deep thing, as though he were coming up for air. It occurred to Graham that Oliver hadn’t once taken his eyes off of Danny, either.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Graham bit his lips, eyes widening in the dark as everything went silent. There was a fuzziness to the dark as though wool had been pulled over his eyes and he was trying to see through the grains; as though the only points of light were the blinking glow of the camera and Danny’s eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was then when Graham realized, all too late, that there was no trick of the light- Danny’s eyes truly did glow. They glowed and they were toxic green and radiant. It’d be terrifying, if Danny didn’t sound so lost as he said, “I’m scared.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Daniel,” Oliver tried to say, voice croaking out of the dark. It was enough to put anyone at ease- so what was with the widening of Danny’s eyes? Why did he seem frightened, even still? Oliver continued smoothly, “We’re still here, in this room. Can you hear me? Can you focus on my voice?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m scared,” Danny said as though he hadn’t heard, “that he’ll realize the truth.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What truth, Danny?” Oliver implored, sounding a bit closer. Graham couldn’t see anything but Danny’s eyes. “You told me yourself that your brother was never the kind of person to do anything violent- not in life, and not in death.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Silence. Graham swallowed, feeling the creeping shadow slither down the margins between his teeth as he offered shakily, “He was watching over you, wasn’t he? You said it yourself- he’s only ever watched over you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s watching over you now, I’m sure,” Oliver said, trying to soothe. “and if we can find the candles, I’m sure that we can settle this, once and for all,” Graham was glad of the dark. Oliver’s always been good at hiding what he feels when no one could see his hands. “He’ll </span>
  <em>
    <span>understand. </span>
  </em>
  <span>And if he doesn’t, we’ll help him understand. Like we discussed before this? Remember?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Danny didn’t say anything for a long moment. Graham hated that they had chosen this warehouse of all houses to have their studio in; with the windows boarded up, the only light that could be made out, as his vision adjusted, were the points of light that Danny seemed to want them to see. They were trapped in place, waiting on Danny to say something, to do something- and Graham couldn’t even have that luxury, because there was a hand curling over his nose and mouth, tightly pressing against his skin before he could even make a sound.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A word,” someone whispered into his ear, “of advice. Don’t you dare skimp out on us,”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Danny finally said, “I’m afraid that he’s already realized…” </span>
  <span>Danny’s eyes were impossible to look away from.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“And besides, you want everyone to see him, right?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m the reason.” Danny said. “They took him because they wanted </span>
  <em>
    <span>me.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The lights flickered on.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Danny's eyes delicately closed. "That's why we need to find him. He's reaching out to me- to bring him <em>home."</em></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Graham didn’t know why that was the thing that grabbed his attention the most. Why he didn’t realize when the hand was gone and the spectre disappeared; why he didn’t see Danny’s expression as he hid his face in his arms; why he didn’t see Oliver on the ground, breathing somewhat heavily, as though he himself had seen a ghost. But he noticed, and the moment he looked away from Danny, he was able to move, hands flying to his mouth in a delayed reaction to having someone seemingly trying to suffocate him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Danny was silent when he cried. If he showed his face it would be perfect for the camera, and Graham hated himself for thinking something so heartless.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cut the feed,” Oliver said, slowly straightening himself up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Graham stiffly walked to the camera and shut it all down. When he looked back to the chair Danny was curled up in, the man had disappeared.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just as though he was never there at all.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Well, Danny wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually </span>
  </em>
  <span>gone, of course. Just invisible. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Danny sighed, sitting up and stretching his legs in front of him as the tech guy- Graham, he seemed nice enough- did a double take, looking directly in Danny’s direction and yet seeing straight through him. Oliver quietly swore, looking around the room to see where Danny had gone. The camera had stopped rolling before Danny blinked out of their view, so there was no chance of anything </span>
  <em>
    <span>truly </span>
  </em>
  <span>weird appearing in the video when it went up on YouTube.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Went a bit heavy with the melodrama there, hm?” Melanie asked. Her hand was on his shoulder and when Danny tilted his head back, Melanie was looking towards the two newest content creators they’d terrified that week. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her eyes were glowing green. They usually were now, since she had that fucking arrest warrant put out for trespassing. Of all the godforsaken things Melanie could be caught doing, it </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>to have been trespassing. When she turned invisible. Danny had tried to get the reason why she didn’t just disappear earlier out of her, but she just deflected with some vague bullshit about shadows, the position of libra in scorpio, and a very persistent hedgehog. And Danny was supposed to be the dramatic one.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Danny sighed, taking a napkin out of his pocket and dabbing at his eyes. He was just hoping the mascara wasn’t running. Pretending to cry always felt lowkey gross. “Did you have to throw a monkey wrench? That was way too over the top.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It was the exact </span>
  <em>
    <span>right </span>
  </em>
  <span>amount of over the top, fuck you.” Melanie huffed, leaning a bit over the back of the chair and watching the rest of the show unfold before them. Oliver seemed to be of the opinion that the content shared might have been too sensitive. Graham seemed to be of the impression that they had to share it anyway, and he had a look in his eye that Danny was all too familiar with. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He winced, bringing a foot up to rest on the chair and loosely wrapping his arms around one knee. Danny said, “I’m getting tired of being the poster boy for all this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your thing is </span>
  <em>
    <span>literally </span>
  </em>
  <span>being the ultimate poster boy,” Melanie said, “Don’t think you have much choice in the matter.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, but still. Feels weird.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And how d’you think it feels being an outsider and looking at all this, exactly?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Danny huffed out a slightly melodramatic breath, head falling back against the back of the chair as he leveled his sister with an unimpressed look. “You weren’t saying that when I was on Ghost Hunt, now were you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, because you were making me money,” Melanie snorted. In front of both of them, Oliver and Graham’s argument seemed to escalate. “Now chin up! We still have some guys to spook with that American ghost hunting show and you’re gonna be the voice of </span>
  <em>
    <span>What the Ghost </span>
  </em>
  <span>on Friday- and we can’t have our little star getting rusty, now can we?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I hate when you call me that,” Danny said, but it wasn’t with any bite.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Melanie rolled her eyes, “You hate most of I call you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. I do.” Danny said. He looked dispassionately at the hosts of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Terminal Oversight </span>
  </em>
  <span>and sighed, running a hand through his hair. “... And this will really do it, right? Find a lead on Tim?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s the way I’m thinking it’ll go, yeah,” Melanie said, slinging her other arm over the back of the chair. “It’ll be slow going at first, but once the algorithms start picking up thumbnails with your face, there won’t be a person on Earth who won’t know what’s happened.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And if we’re wrong and this… makes things harder?” Danny asked tentatively, “If this makes whoever stole his body more careful, or if he sees and wants to… I don’t know. If he sees.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, he’ll see it,” Melanie said mildly, “and when we find him after all of this, I’m going to wring his neck my own damn self.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...” Danny tried again, “And if… he’s really-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s not.” Melanie said sharply. “He knew what he was doing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah…” Danny said, hand finding its way back to his hair. He didn’t believe that for a second- and for all of Melanie’s conviction, he knew she didn’t either. For once, neither of them hadn’t the foggiest clue of what had been going through their older brother’s head. “Yeah. I just can't stop... worrying. I can’t imagine what horrible things he might be going through, alone like this...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...” Melanie slowly let out a breath and gently squeezed his shoulder. “Yeah, well. Let’s not start with all that. Come on- let’s get that cheap shit off your face.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Danny nodded, standing. He kept a hold of Melanie’s hand, not wanting to accidentally break the connection and leave himself visible. </span>
  <span>“Right. Alright.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>not sure if we're ever gonna make this a full au with a full mainfic, but this was definitely fun!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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